Chapter 7 #3
He holds me there. His hand locked in my hair, his cock buried to the root in my throat, and I can’t breathe.
My lungs burn and my eyes water. My hands scrabble uselessly against his thighs, and he doesn’t let up.
He holds me down while Nick starts fucking me in earnest, hard, deep, relentless thrusts that slam my hips forward and drive me further onto Kieran’s cock with every stroke.
Nick’s hips snap forward, his cock splitting me open, hitting that spot inside me with every thrust, and Kieran uses my throat like it belongs to him, pulling back just enough to let me gasp one ragged breath before shoving me back down.
The piercing drags against my soft palate on every stroke, a hard ridge of metal that catches and releases, catches and releases, and the sensation is sharp and overwhelming and perfect.
“Look at him,” Kieran says above me, and his voice has nothing left in it but need. “Look at this desperate little cock slut, taking both of us like he was built for it.”
Nick’s hand grips my hip so hard I’ll have bruises tomorrow.
I want bruises tomorrow, I want to carry this on my body for days.
He pulls me back onto his cock with each thrust, using me like a toy, his pace getting rougher, faster.
The wet slap of his hips against my ass fills the limo, obscene and loud, and every impact drives me forward onto Kieran’s cock.
Kieran pulls back, his cock sliding from my throat with a wet, obscene sound, and I gasp, one desperate ragged breath, before his hand shoves me down again.
My mouth fills, my throat opens, and he fucks my face with the same rhythm Nick is using on my ass.
Kieran’s cock hits the back of my throat at the same moment Nick’s cock hits that spot inside me, and the pleasure builds so fast, so intense, that my vision starts to go white at the edges.
My cock jerks, untouched, and the orgasm takes me all at once.
It starts in my ass and goes outward, deep and rolling.
My hole clenches around Nick’s cock, spasming, milking him, and the sensation of my body pulling him deeper while my orgasm tears through me sends a bolt of white-hot pleasure up my spine that makes my whole body seize.
I convulse between them, my back arching, my hips jerking forward onto Kieran’s cock and back onto Nick’s, and having them both amplifies everything until I’m shaking apart, my vision going white, my mouth falling open around Kieran’s shaft as a broken, guttural sound tears out of me.
Cum pumps from my untouched cock in thick, heavy spurts, splashing across the carpet, my stomach, my thighs.
Each pulse pulls another wave of sensation through my ass, my hole clenching and releasing around Nick in rapid, involuntary spasms, and I can feel him swelling inside me, thickening, pulsing, his cock jerking against my walls as my body milks him toward his own release.
“Fuck—Chase—” Nick’s voice cracks above me, his hands locking on my hips, his fingers digging into the bruises already there.
His hips slam forward one final time, burying himself to the root, and he comes, the hot thick flood of cum filling me, pulsing in heavy waves that mix with the mess Kieran left this morning.
My hole clenches around him, pulling every drop, and Nick groans, long and ragged, the sound going through his chest and into my back where he’s pressed against me.
Kieran’s hand tightens in my hair. His cock swells in my mouth, the head pulsing against my tongue, and I suck harder, hollowing my cheeks, my throat working around him as my body continues to shake through the aftershocks of my own orgasm.
His hips jerk forward, fucking my mouth through it, and then he’s coming, thick, hot cum flooding my throat in heavy pulses.
I swallow, once, twice, three times, my jaw aching, tears streaming down my face, and I take every drop because I want it all, because I need it, because his cum in my throat and Nick’s cum in my ass are the only things that make sense right now.
Kieran pulls out slowly, his cock dragging across my tongue, and the last pulse of cum hits my lips, dripping down my chin. I gasp, sucking air, my chest heaving, and Nick is still inside me, his cock softening but still thick, still filling me, his cum warm and heavy in my ass.
For a long moment, nobody moves. The only sounds are the three of us breathing, the hum of the engine beneath us, and Hank’s muffled radio playing something classical through the partition.
Then Nick pulls out, and cum gushes from my hole, running down my inner thighs in thick rivulets. The emptiness is immediate and vast, my hole clenching around nothing, and I whimper, my body still twitching with aftershocks.
Nick kisses me. His mouth is warm and hungry, and he moans as I share the taste of Kieran’s cum.
The limo slows and turns. We’ve exited the highway, and I’m a filthy mess, so far from presentable that it’s laughable. Kieran snaps a picture of my wrecked face with his phone as we pull up to his building.
I look out the window. We’re in a neighborhood I don’t recognize, narrow streets, brick row houses, cars parked tight against the curb.
Kieran’s apartment building is unremarkable: three stories, faded red brick, a set of concrete steps leading up to a door with peeling paint.
There’s a bike locked to a railing and a trash can on the sidewalk. Normal life, continuing without us.
Kieran pulls his sweats up, tucking himself away, and reaches for his bag. His movements are loose now, post-orgasm, younger and softer around the edges. He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face, and looks at us.
“You’re going to call us?” I ask.
“I’ll think about it,” he says. The words come out quiet, almost gentle. “I’ll be in touch. Okay?”
My throat closes. “Okay.”
He leans forward and kisses me. Once, soft, his mouth lingering against mine like he’s memorizing the shape of it.
Then he turns to Nick and does the same, a quick, firm press of lips that makes Nick’s eyes go wide.
Then he’s reaching for the door handle and sliding out of the limo, and he goes around to the trunk for the duffel Lilah stole and the bag of clothes I bought him.
I watch him climb the steps. He doesn’t look back.
The limo pulls away from the curb. Nick hauls me into his lap and pulls me against his chest, his body warm and solid, and reaches for the box of wet wipes by the mini-fridge to clean me up.
“We’ll win him over,” Nick says. “If we need to. We’ll figure it out.”
I nod against his chest. My eyes are burning, and I press them into the fabric of his shirt so he won’t see, as Nick carefully puts me back together, feeds me water and a snack, and finger-combs my hair.
“How bad is it?” I ask, wondering if Hank will know.
“He’s seen worse,” Nick says. “We’re here. I can’t believe you let your mom just pick your house.”
“She insisted, and it wasn’t worth arguing,” I say. “I’m already coming out and changing my major. Besides, I’m sure it’s nice.”
The house is bigger than I expected. Two stories, brick facade, a small front yard with a stone path. It looks like something from a magazine, a house for successful young professionals, not two college students who spent the last week fucking each other raw on a kitchen counter.
“Jesus,” Nick whispers. “I thought you asked her to find a small two bedroom.”
I groan. “My mom’s idea of small is a little different from most people’s.”
Hank pulls into the driveway and kills the engine. Nobody says anything.
Nick turns to me. His hand finds my face, cupping my jaw, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone. “Hey,” he says. “Don’t freak out. It’s fantastic. We’re going to have a blast living here.”
“We are. I just wish Kieran hadn’t left,” I whisper.
“Eyes on me,” Nick says.
I look at him. His eyes are warm and steady, brown enough to hold the light.
“I meant what I said,” he says. “We’re boyfriends.
You and me. That’s happening, whether Kieran comes around or not.
” His thumb traces my lower lip. “I’d love to have him by our side, but his hesitance doesn’t change what we are.
I already loved you, Chase. As my best friend.
For years. This—” He gestures between us, at the space our bodies are sharing.
“This just makes it more. Not less. More intense. More everything. And I’m not going back from that. I can’t.”
Something cracks open in my chest. I lean forward and kiss him, hard, my hands fisting in his shirt, and he kisses me back like he’s been waiting his whole life for permission.